


Gleam of the sun

by Ladyblanc_RU



Series: The Last Survivor [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Jaskier | Dandelion, Bad Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Established Relationship, Jaskier thinks a lot, Kidnapping, Love Poems, M/M, Mind Control, Nilfgaard, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, POV Jaskier | Dandelion, Swearing, Tags Are Hard, To Be Continued, Witcher Contracts, Witcher Jaskier | Dandelion, like a lot, travelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25674526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyblanc_RU/pseuds/Ladyblanc_RU
Summary: After they had left Lettenhove, Jaskier hoped they finally would have some time to enjoy simple lives of witchers: killing monsters, preparing for the winter. They deserved a little break after everything that happened. And in the beginning, everything seemed to work out just fine, but soon enough Destiny decided to change their plans drastically.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Last Survivor [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756648
Kudos: 17





	Gleam of the sun

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello, hello, dear readers) Have a great time, and enjoy the story.
> 
> *Is a third part of a series. Can be read as a stand-alone, but you really should check the first part*

I

“I tell you — it is an alghoul!” Jaskier exclaimed getting up on his legs looking up down on Geralt, who was hiding his smile behind eating a deer meat. Witcher rolled his eyes watching minstrel pacing in front of him, “It attacks using an ambush, there are clear traces of long claws, people were killed in the cemetery, what else evidences do you want to find there tomorrow?”

“More traces. Alghouls hunt in packs with ghouls, it would be logical to find more traces, or dug out graves. Otherwise I can say that it could be almost any other type of grave monsters. Starting from the ghoul and ending with another leshen. Those can leave similar marks as well.”

Jaskier frowned at the mentioning of a leshen and rubbed his new scar, which ran from his shoulder all the way to the chest, “I can imagine that,” he sighed stopping his pace. They were arguing about a type of monster they were hired to kill for hours now, and he was really getting tired of it. He could agree that their clues were vague and unclear, but there are not many monsters who could actually plan an entire ambush. _It leads us back to the starting point._ Bard sat back on the ground close to Geralt in defeat, there was no point in continuing, they still needed a bit more information, “Okay, okay, you won. We will go there in the morning and try to find something more specific. But you have to agree that whatever it is, it attacked from a good hiding spot and is very agile.”

“And fast,” Geralt added throwing bones in a small pit minstrel dug out earlier. He gently put his hand on bard’s shoulder bringing him closer to his body. Jaskier grinned leaning on witcher’s legs, his eyes looked at night sky watching the stars, “for the record, I’ve never disagreed with you about clues.” Geralt murmured in musician’s ear softly running his big palm through his mate’s hair.

Jaskier looked into his eyes smiling widely. They were traveling together like this for a long time, bard even stopped keeping track of the time at some point, constantly enjoying each other’s presence, parting only when their duties made them go in opposite ways. The minstrel had never felt so happy ever before. It took him some time to completely forget about what happened in Lettenhove, but having Geralt around was a blessing he couldn’t have wished for. And now, when all that sleepless nights filled with terrifying nightmares and soft talking were in the past, days fell in a peaceful routine. There was something so simple, yet at the same time so pleasant and intimate, in these evenings. Stars above them in the dark night sky, wind running through trees and grass, or even a small room of a tavern. It didn’t really matter as long as they had spent time together. _I can write so many ballads. Audience might not welcome these songs very well, though it doesn’t matter. Not everything has to be shown to the public after all._ Jaskier placed hands under his head, closed eyes slowly breathing warm air in and out, and whispered, “Glad you didn’t. I might be wrong about the monster, but you don’t get to criticize my observation skills.”

“Really?” Geralt asked, pleased grin crossed his face, “Remember how you lost your lute while it hanged on your back? You were looking so hard for it; it was funny just to see you crawling under the bed in search for your instrument.”

“Yeah, but don’t forget that there were extenuating circumstances,” Jaskier muttered in response opening his eyes. He frowned a little carefully listening to soft night sounds of the forest sure that he heard something. _There’s no life around us, villagers are too afraid to leave their town especially after the sunset_. Minstrel relaxed and closed his eyes again. That noise was too quiet to come from any beast or animal, so he was pretty sure it was just wind howling in the leaves. Well, or he tried to convince himself of this, “I was drunk after celebrating a success victory in the competition. I won fairly and had all rights to have a drink or two. Not that amount actually, but I’m sure you remember that.”

“Hard to forget. You were dead drunk, when you finally joined me just before the dawn. Besides, does it count as a fair win if witcher competes with a human?” Geralt hummed looking at his bard with mockery in his glance. Jaskier straightened and looked slyly in witcher’s eyes with a smirk on his face.

“You’re just jealous it was me, who showed that bastard he couldn’t just declare himself the best fighter. If it wasn’t for me to teach him this tough lesson, someone would’ve simply killed him in a next brawl.” Jaskier leaned to Geralt changing the pose he was sitting to bring his face closer. “Furthermore, darling, I also got us a shiny coin and a room. We weren’t even chased out of town. That was worth it, wasn’t it?”

Witcher grunted something that sounded like an agreement and grinned pulling bard closer, his hand resting on minstrel’s back. “I actually liked how you dealt with him. Were so strong and fast.”

Minstrel chuckled and whispered back, softly pressing their lips together, “Never underestimate me, dear wolf.” His hands slowly started to untie strings on Geralt’s shirt, while witcher were placing kisses on his neck. Suddenly Jaskier pulled away making Geralt growl in disappointment. He looked around carefully listening once again. There was a quiet screech, rustle of bushes, a short scream. Jaskier got off the witcher and asked frowning thoughtfully, “Did you hear that?”

“Sounds like it’s coming from our cemetery. Guess we’ll need to check on mysterious monster straight away.” Geralt got up letting go of a bard and fetched his silver sword from Roach, while Jaskier quickly jumped on his legs from the ground putting his leather jacket and gloves on in a process, ignoring one of the looks Geralt gave him, and shouted, before running deeper in the wood with his glaive on his shoulder. “The last one pays for the booze!”

II

Jaskier managed to get far enough before Geralt inevitably caught up with him running close to his bard, trying to find an opportunity to become a leader, so when a fallen tree appeared in front of them, he easily jumped over its lower part, while minstrel had to slip under the trunk. “Oh no, you won’t win that easily.” Understanding that it would be almost impossible to catch up with Geralt fairly, bard drank one of his potions and, using his teleportation sign, started to quickly wade through trees. _How fast you even are? Fucking extra mutations._ Jaskier swore mentally speeding up, when the first path to the cemetery appeared under his running legs. _Come on, I can’t lose like that._ He pushed himself further running as fast as possible. All of a sudden he heard a voice. Geralt’s voice calling for him. Bard stopped abruptly turning into opposite direction and instantly ran to the sound. _That’s strange. The beast clearly attacked in the cemetery probably dragging its victim away in the forest…_ He was wary when the bushes stirred in front of him, his hand already holding the glaive. _Attacking from an ambush, giant claws…._ “Fuck. That’s bad, very very bad.” Jaskier stepped back rushing his hand through the pockets in search of a desperately needed oil. “Come on, come on.” He got out a bottle with dark red liquid, just in time before a terrible creature jumped out of its shelter attacking.

Its sharp claws pierced into Jaskier’s shoulder throwing him away into nearby tree. Witcher groaned spilling all oil on the ground. _Fuck that’s not good._ He got up slightly uneven on his legs after the hit, froze to plan out tactic for a battle. His eyes carefully watched as an ugly, tall humanoid creature rushed forward with a deafening scream that made him move to cover his sensitive ears. Bard cursed jumping to the side. His head was ringing from loud sounds, and Julian was grateful he didn't have time to take his elixirs. Otherwise he woud've been deaf now. While the thing looked around trying to find him, he used this moment to teleport behind it piercing tight grey skin with a silver end of his weapon. Nothing. It only made the monster angrier without bringing any harm to it. Creature abruptly turned on the place grabbing Jaskier’s hand and threw him in full strength to the ground. Witcher managed to teleport away in the last moment. It didn't save him from the fall, however. Witcher got up and rushed towards the cemetery once again trying to ignore wild screams of a wendigo chasing after him. _Okay, no physical damage. Think, Jaskier, think! Immune to force, but weak to…_ He cursed loudly when strong hand grabbed his jacket trying to drop him on the ground. Jaskier quickly got out of his jacket and, after suddenly changing the direction of his ran, sent a wave of fire right into wendigo’s face. Awful sounds came out of its throat as the beast turned and in two big jumps rushed away from the danger.

“Geralt! Fuck, I’ll kill those villagers,” Jaskier shouted running through the graveyard perfectly hearing how the wendigo got rid of the last flames, which previously covered its entire body, continuing to chase the witcher. He growled feeling a rush of relief when he saw a familiar keep of white hair in front of him. “Thank the gods I found you!” he sighed catching his breath. Geralt looked at him with concern in his eyes. “Geralt, we need fire. A lot and fast!”

“It wasn’t an alghoul, was it?” he asked quickly dodging an upcoming attack from the monster just in time for Jaskier to teleport behind its back. He nodded to Geralt, and both of them unleashed a wall of fire burying the monster under huge waves of flashing liquid light. Deafening scream echoed in the woods as the beast tried to escape its inevitable death. It tried to jump away from the attackers, but witchers synchronously moved cutting all escape routes, until the beast fell to the ground shaking a couple of times before freezing there. Wild spirit escaped lifeless body howling in the air, but before it completely disappeared Geralt set up his hands and threw Jaskier up in the air. Minstrel cut the spirit with his glaive making sure it disappeared with a disgusting bubbling sound.

“That was close,” Jaskier sighed out trying to catch his breath. His whole body hurt, his heart pounding in his ears far too off from its usual pace, but other than that he was mostly fine. _Guess, I hadn’t reached my luck limit yet._ “Well, now we know that both of us were wrong.”

“You can say so. I found a small pack of ghouls shred to the pieces, though you clearly won with that wendigo. It was so happy to see you, it even left its dinner alone to find you.” Geralt teased putting his sword back in its sheath, “How did you even found that thing? I thought you were running after me.”

“I did, in fact. I was chasing you, maybe slightly cheating,” whitehaired raised his brow in suspicion, “Okay, that depends on how you look on that. I just used one of my signs, nothing too serious.”

“You used your signs to catch up with me? Getting a little rusty over the years, aren’t we?”

“Ha, ha, ha, that’s very funny. Bet you wouldn’t be so eager to make fun out of Vesemir if he was on my place,” Jaskier teased back cutting the wendigo’s head as a proof of their successful hunt, while Geralt was doing the same with ghouls. Nasty smell filled the air making bard wrinkle his nose in disgust, Geralt near him just grunted in agreement, “Anyway, you know better than me how those things can mimic voices. I was just caught in that silly trap thinking you found an adventure on your ass without me.”

“Hmm. We might as well want to see what that thing was up to. Maybe you weren’t the only one who was trapped like that.”

“Does that mean I have a chance to make up for my loss in our previous competition?”

“You’re still paying for that booze,” Geralt smirked fastening the heads of dead monsters to his belt, “Lead the way, loser, maybe this time luck would be on your side.”

After searching for a while in the bushes cursing the damn wendigo for its habit of dragging the prey away before actually eating them, Geralt finally managed to find a right trace leading to a deep pitch black cave in the ground. Jaskier curiously looked inside sniffing the air and almost immediately stumbled back from an awful smell of decaying bones. He looked at other witcher with concern asking, “Who’s going to be first? The younger ones need to concede and all…”

“As you wish, old one,” Geralt chuckled carefully jumping to the darkness before Jaskier could say something about his comment. Griffin witcher looked sadly at the rising sun hearing nature waking up from its slumber and cursed. _We’ve spent all night looking for this. Such a romantic adventure, I must admit._ He though jumping after his mate to the darkness, hoping he wouldn’t have fall to long. _I’ve always dreamed of spending my evening like that. Wendigo, ghouls, now the cave. At this point I won’t be surprised if we find someone alive._

Jaskier rolled his eyes using Igni to lighten a bit the way through the dark underground routes.

To say that the whole place smelled terrible and was filled with a whole ton of different kinds of crap would be an understatement. Bones were cracking under his legs echoing with the sound of Geralt’s steps slightly ahead, ground were covered in fresh blood drops and small traces that looked like as if someone were desperately trying to get away alive, the thick smell of fear and panic, breaking through an unbearable stench of death and moisture, served as good evidence that someone had been dragged here recently. _Well, maybe I went slightly to far with my assumptions. There’s no way anyone could’ve survived this falling and dragging. Some of rocks and bones are sharp enough to cut through human skin._ Cold rand down Jaskier’s spine as he thought how unfair it would be to die in such place. _May Melitele rest your soul._ He quickly shook these thoughts away speeding up. There was no point in spending more time in this hole than needed.

Jaskier turned around the corner only to find Geralt reading something on a torn piece of paper in front of a small broken body hanging from the ceiling. A quick look on the dead man was enough to say that his death was slow and very unpleasant. Wendigo tore the victim’s eyes out, slashed his stomaс open slowly eating all the organs until finally killing the prey. _Poor soul. No one deserves to die like that. He doesn’t even look old enough. Maybe around seventeen or eighteen._ Witcher sighed and moved closer to Geralt, who was busy studying the piece of something that looked like very dirty blood-stained parchment, “Enjoying the view down here?”

Geralt ignored the joke and instead just shoved the paper in Jaskier’s hands silently. Griffin witcher frowned looking carefully on the vague from blood and water letter reading loudly, “Jaskier, it would be a great honor to have you perform at my annual Saovine celebration in my mansion. Your Countess de Stael.”

Bard turned the paper over looking for something on the other side. Something just wasn't wrong about this letter. And it wasn’t just the unusual style of writing which were used in the letter, his favorite Countess liked to play overly polite especially with someone close to her. _I don’t remember being invited to this particular holiday._ He read the letter once again, looked at the seal, which looked real enough, and mumbled under his breath, “Something is off. Countess rarely uses someone to deliver her mail, usually it’s magic letters, ‘cause bellhops tend to die, and this one is also young,” he went past Geralt towards the body looking carefully at the torn clothes of the boy for any symbols that could make him recognizable, but everything was such a mess it was impossible to find anything useful these flaps of skin and cloth. “Fuck. Of course, you would tear your prey apart. Why did you even go out once again leaving all these delicious meat behind?”

“Is everything alright?” Geralt asked placing a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, everything is fine, it’s just feels wrong,” a memory of a strange sound he heard earlier that evening popped up in his memory. It was just a wendigo. _Stop being so paranoid, there’s no reason anyone would mess up with an invitation or something._ “While I can believe in the handwriting, the style of the letter and the seal. It still feels strange. I mean, we’re good friends with her, and for a long time she was my muse, she has never invited me to spend time with her during the autumn, it’s usually winter when I come to visit her.”

“Could you be just overthinking this? Maybe she just wants to see you, maybe there’s something that needed to be addressed before winter.”

“You’re probably right, and I’m just inflating out of molehills again,” Jaskier agreed hiding the letter in his pocket. _It’s actually might be good that I’ll see Countess earlier. It’s not like I would spend this winter with her, or in Oxenfurt._ He thought feeling slightly nervous before an upcoming cold months he was about to spend in Kaer Morhen. While he was happy that Geralt wanted him to be around in his home, he wasn’t sure others would be so welcoming. _Everything would be fine. I will meet with the Countess catching up on new court rumors, writing a song or two, and then spend a whole winter in the mountains._ “Okay, Countess it is. I’ll visit her and, before the first snow falls, head to Ard Carraigh to meet up with you. Sounds fair, darling?”

“You sure you don’t want me around? In case this is in fact a trap?” Geralt asked slowly heading to the exit, his hand still wrapping bard’s shoulder.

“No fears, darling. I’m pretty sure it’s just Countess wanting to try something new. And don’t forget that I’m still a good fighter. Maybe slightly rusty, though that shit tends to happen when you live for as long as me.”

“Hard to disagree with that, granddad,” Jaskier softly slapped Geralt’s shoulder earning only a sharp exhale as a reaction, “Now let’s finally get out of here and get drunk. Remember, you’re paying.” Jaskier giggled, echo quickly loudened his small laugh in the cave, and they continued walking out of there bickering about how much would an alderman pay for so many monsters. Something still felt heavy deep inside of bard, and no matter how hard he tried to ignore this feeling, it only faded a bit refusing to go away completely.

III

Tavern was filled with small talks which only got wilder as sun slowly began to disappear behind the horizon, more people joined patrons already sitting in the small room. Jaskier quickly scanned the small crowd noticing that the audience primary consisted of women with their children and started tuning his lute. He wasn’t surprised with the lack of simple workers. Considering that the Saovine was near, everyone was just trying to earn as much coin as possible only to spend it all during the holiday. It also wasn’t too late, per say, moon didn’t even show up in the skies, so everything was still ahead, and this evening was very promising. _Okay, something simple to catch their attention and warm up a bit._

Minstrel glanced quickly around the room once again, before strumming first chords of song he had always used to begin his concerts with. It was always well responded, even if it wasn’t the best in his repertoire, so with a light heart he played it through easily encouraging kids to hum along. A pair of girls even got up and started dancing under their mother’s careful watch, and Jaskier couldn’t help but smile widely. He circled for a little while around them, moved to a table where young damsels were listening winkling to them and changed his course hearing them giggle. Bard slowed down only for a second to shoot Geralt one mischievous glance practically hearing him snarl and roll his eyes, though Jaskier couldn’t leave unnoticed a smile which touched other witcher’s face. Seeing this lightened musician’s mood even more making him literally glow with joy and happiness. Finishing the first song, he easily shifted to another one leaving a pause only for a moment to hear loud applause and soft ring of coin being thrown at his bag. This evening was just perfect. And not because Jaskier got the chance to perform after a long time, but rather because he prepared something really special and felt both nervous and trilled about playing a song he was working on.

Slowly but surely the room filled up with people, loud cheers rang in the air. Jaskier went through all his songs and took a small break to prepare himself for the final piece. He moistened his throat with ale, which was brought him earlier this evening by a grateful keeper herself, slightly nervously checking all chords for any imperfections. Patrons around him didn’t seem to notice any of his uncertainty continuing to clap and talk with each other, still minstrel could feel a light glare of golden eyes looking for any signs of trouble. Bard smiled once again, even though his cheeks slightly hurt after so much laughing and smiling, and gave Geralt a soft look of reassurance saying that everything was just perfect. Witcher nodded and returned to his mug, waiting for Jaskier to finish. _Okay, I won’t be around on Saovin, so it would be either a good gift, or a disaster. Well, it’s now or never._ He straightened up announcing the last performance. Audience welcomed his words with a mix of joy and disappointment, the bright reaction overtaking the sad one, however, and Jaskier started playing softly plucking strings of his lute.

My life was never like a perfect line,  
Which led to sweet old days.  
And though I made this world mine  
I still could feel the haze.

Soft tune filled the tavern making everyone stop their small talks and turn over to the minstrel carefully listening to every note and word.

It pulled me deeper in despair  
And made me feel alone.  
I though, I’d never find a pair  
Which feels like being home.

But then one day I met you, dear,  
Somewhere too far away.  
Our destinies, they interfered  
To clear our love the way.

It shines as bright as sun above,  
As lake it’s clear and soft.  
And I can say not rising brow  
It’s what makes these words waft.

We push away all troubles, still  
Sometimes we step in shit.  
But I know that the goddess’s will  
Won’t let our souls split.

Jaskier smiled softly and closed his eyes, good memories popped up in his mind reminding about their adventures together.

And though I might not be enough,  
As well as you sometimes,  
I know we’ll soothe all fears too rough  
Like all these rusty rhymes.

So, when one day I met you, dear,  
Somewhere too far away,  
Our destinies, they interfered  
To clear our love the way.

And now I’m sure that I’ll die  
With you there by my side.  
I still don’t know nor where, nor why,  
But know you’ll be beside.

Jaskier opened his eyes looking at the crowd, which stared at him quietly. All eyes were fixed on him waiting for the last notes to die in this deafening silence making him shift slightly uncomfortable under their glances. Suddenly, a woman rose from somewhere in the back and started clapping. It was like a signal for everyone to join her applause shouting words of approval and encouragement. Damsels, who were giggling and trying to interest the minstrel, were whipping away tears from their faces, two girls previously dancing ran towards him to give a flower, and overall mood of the patrons became more peaceful and softer. Loud cheers were still heard, however, but now they were also mixed with questions falling on the bard from every corner. People wanted to know more about the person this song was about. How they met and all other topics, which Jaskier had to get away from telling them, that his muse was one in the whole world and that there were no words to describe her beauty. After a while he managed to slip outside from that crowd saying that it was lovely to see them, but he really needed to rest for the night.

Bard slipped away through the door leaving too interested listeners alone with their thoughts and discussions audible to hear from outside. He knew crowd would be overly interested in his private life, but even knowing this didn't stop him from performing tonight. A song which made such a success would attract attention to his persona making people more willing to pay him to hear this particular composition, and everything else seemed even less of a problem, juat a small inconvinience. Jaskeir wandered a bit away from the noisy building thinking that he could really use a coat, when two hands gently put something warm on minstrel's shoulders, familiar deep voice whispered in his ear. "That was amazing, Jask."

Minstrel turned around not really understanding what he was covered with, so he asked bluntly, “What is it?”

Geralt just hummed and carefully helped Jaskier to put his hands through the sleeves of a black thick jacket, “Your previous one had become a meal to wendigo, and it’s getting cold outside at nights,” as if agreeing with the witcher’s words, the bard sneezed wrapping himself in deeper his jacket, “So I decided you might need it.”

“Thank you, Geralt,” Jaskier hugged witcher tightly placing his head on Geralt’s shoulder, “Did you like the song?”

“Yes, Jask. As I said, it was amazing,” he placed his chin on minstrel’s nape still carefully holding his fragile human frame, “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“You would be just bored without me,” Jaskier giggled breathing deeply his mate’s warm scent of woods, dirt and blood. _Should’ve washed you properly._ He closed his eyes relaxing. _Still like it, though._ “Besides, without me no one would be there to lose you a booze.”

“I’m sure I can manage.”

“You oaf!” Jaskier quietly exclaimed feignedly indignant. He looked up to Geralt clearly seeing mockery in his soft eyes, “How could you even…”

Witcher just rolled his eyes gently kissing his bard to making him to shut up. Just in a moment he pulled back asking, “You were saying?”

“Nothing,” Jaskier gave up, “just how much I love you, darling.”

“I love you too, Jask.”

IV

They left the town at the sunrise and headed deeper in Temeria’s territory, ancient woods closing closer around them with each passing hour. Sun shone friendly though thick curtain of trees gently waking up animals, insects and any other creatures, so they had to listen carefully for any signs of monsters coming. Jaskier sat on his horse slightly tenser than he should’ve, though he just couldn’t help but look around every once in a while to make sure no one was following them. He tried no to think too much about a heavy letter in his pocket. Bard spent almost all night closely studying the handwriting and analyzing the overall structure, but he didn’t find anything that could be off even in the slightest. _Fuck me, if this all thing would turn out to be just a normal celebration. Why the hell I’m so nervous in the first place? I haven’t crossed anyone’s path for a long time in both my lives, there shouldn’t be anyone out there who might want to kill me. And that means, I just need to relax and enjoy my time with Geralt, before we get separated. Right?_

Jaskier agreed with himself and tried to shake every bad thought that crossed his mind. It was hard in the beginning, when for some reason almost everything his brain was focused on had to do something with either an upcoming visit, or Lettenhove, which still haunted some of bard’s dreams. Minstrel took his lute out to distract himself, and, surprisingly, it worked. After the midday, when they set off traveling again, he started to slowly fall into the peaceful feeling of comfort, which primary radiated from silent Geralt, not that any of them would mention it, so closer to the evening Jaskier was almost completely free of any fears just playing occasionally or thinking about his travels with Coёn, whom he deeply missed.

Truth be told both friends hadn’t seen each other since the cruel attack on their only home, and, as far as Jaskier was aware of, he was the only one who got out there alive. The last Griffin witcher left. The last survivor, as someone from other school named him. Jaskier didn’t want to believe it, he tried to find any reason why he might’ve not seen his old friend in decades after the attack. Maybe he moved further south to Nilfgaard, or simply was hired by someone rich to be their personal protection, even though this scenario was very unlikely considering how much both of them liked to travel, but he had to find at least some hope to believe that Coёn was alive living happily somewhere. _Maybe Geralt knows more than me. After all he was probably seen by wolf witchers. In addition, I had never asked them, not that their school wanted to do anything with me._ Jaskier huffed and shook his head not wanting to even start thinking about the reason his reputation among others witchers weren’t as good as it used to. What was the point of crying over spilt milk anyway? He had done the right thing during the actual attack; it wasn’t his fault someone decided to shift a blame on him after all.

Deciding that it would be better to ask Geralt about Coёn now, because later there would definitely be other thing to do, Jaskier sped up Pegasus catching up with Roach. His whole body tensed at the thought that he might get an answer to his question, not very good answer in particular, but it still was better than trying to guess. “Geralt? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. What do you want to know?”

“Did you or your friends hear anything about Coёn? Not that I want to kill him or something, though it would be great after not hearing from him since the attack. It’s just, well, would be good to know how he is doing. Or whether he’s still alive.”

“Hmm, I haven’t seen him for a long time either. Eskel once mentioned that he stumbled upon him somewhere in Povis, a decade or so ago, so he was alive at that time,” Jaskier sighed in relief and straightened up in his saddle as if an invisible force which was pressing him down all these years suddenly disappeared. “And you? Have you heard anything about other wolf witchers?”

“Let me think,” bard frowned trying to recall every wolf witcher he saw after schools were destroyed, and to his disappointment, it wasn’t much he could help with, “I remember hearing something about Gardis, one Viper witcher told me he was killed during one of his contracts, which, I have to admit, is sad 'cause he was the only one who still talked to me after my banishment. And, if I’m not mistaken, Aubrin, or someone with a name similar to that, was traveling further south, though I heard of him so long ago this information might be unreliable.”

Geralt smirked stopping Roach for the evening camp just outside the woods. The sun was already low in the skies, and the weather slightly changed from unpleasantly hot to a comfortably cool evening, considering it was still the middle of the summer. Jaskier dismounted from his stallion, which quickly responded to that with a sharp exhale and a head bump to the bard’s chest, “And there are also your brothers, though I think you know they’re pretty much alive.”

“Yeah, they remind about themselves every winter. Don’t know how Vesemir still beares us, we do crazy stuff almost every year as if we’re ten again,” Jaskier giggled quietly hiding his smile by turning away from Geralt and pretending to take the saddle of his stallion, but witcher easily heard that bard’s a-bit-too-loud-to-be-hidden laughter, “Sounds funny?”

“Oh, yes, it does!” minstrel laughed openly placing the saddle, which he actually had taken care of, on the grass, his blue human eyes lit with bright joy, “It was a disaster when three of you were together for too long without anyone looking after you. Vesemir could spent ages telling stories about your little adventures.” Jaskier leaned on a nearby tree and crossed his arms, “And I can’t blame him, he did a dam good job in both teaching you and trying to save the school from destruction.”

“I still remember how you told on me and Eskel for running from the school to climb trees and fighting. We’ve got in a lot of trouble thanks to someone.” Geralt grunted brushing Roach’s hair and flanks from the dust and small garbage.

Jaskier came closer to witcher leaning on him and put head on his shoulder, “Have to admit, you both were fighting very good. And really, can you be mad at me? At least I called Vesemir after you two returned, otherwise those trees would’ve been used as a way to punish you.”

“Thanks master, good to hear that someone as you approved fighting skills of a pair of students,” Geralt abruptly stepped back almost sending Jaskier flying to the ground, but bard managed to step back just before that could happen, “Didn’t you play when you were young? Or you were too busy being nerd you are and reading every single book in the library?”

Minstrel frowned trying to look mad, but his wide smile easily broke that illusion, “You cannot even imagine how we spent every night. There were still, of course, a lot of reading involved, but when the lights were turned off and teachers were asleep, whooh, sometimes we went a little bit too far,” Jaskier smiled wider, which was already hard enough, and exhaled softly at the memories of them lurking in the night to prank each other, to explore, or to simply go outside playing lute, “One time we visited our alchemist’s lab to test all potions present there. We were smart enough not to drink whole bottles of something we didn’t know, but not to understand that it was a very bad idea from the very beginning.”

“How did you survive that? Your teachers should’ve killed you.” Geralt asked with a shade of disbelief in his tone, Roach besides them snorted in agreement.

Jaskier rolled his eyes and stepped aside collecting nearby sticks to build a campfire for an upcoming night already beginning to cover the world under its dark blanket, “You’re no fun, Geralt. We were, in fact, punished and very strictly if I have to be honest here, but it was still a good adventure. Tell me, do you, wolf witchers, ever play games? Apart from when you're drunk, of course?”

“It sounds almost as if you do,” Geralt snorted finally leaving Roach to eat some grass around, while her master began to look through their things to find something for their dinner, “You know better than me that witcher’s life is not suited for any games. You either paly around and die or do your job and survive.”

Jaskier laughed loudly throwing a piece of moss in his mate’s shoulder, who just looked for a couple of seconds at the green soft ball as if trying to figure out something, and then easily tossed it away slowly turning his lightened with guile glance towards other witcher. Bard quickly took his necklace of and quickly said, before disappearing deeper in the woods, “Want a revenge, darling? Then you’ll have to find me first.”

V

Minstrel jumped from tree to tree getting as far from the camp as possible, before getting down on the grass and looking around. He ended up leaving woods completely, which felt really good especially when a cold breeze touched his skin. Huge field stretched before him filled with different kinds of flowers proudly spreading their scents all over the place, but what caught bard’s attention was a beautiful lake just in front of him. It was crystal blue, maybe slightly greenish from all the plants growing on its shore, and acted like a perfect natural mirror reflecting evening skies. Jaskier just stood there enjoying the view, not really thinking about the game they were playing, so when he registered soft steps behind him, it was too late to really do something. He just turned around playfully looking for a source of sound and teleported behind Geralt’s back attacking him from behind.

They both fell on the ground rolling in the grass fighting with each other. Jaskier managed to get on top of Geralt trying to stop him from moving, but witcher simply threw him away deeper in thickets of bright flowers. With a soft growl bard once again jumped trying one more time to win, but even after a while of attacking and laughing, they both were still standing on their feet. Field around them was a little trampled due to their rare falls, sun already begun sinking in the lake nearby.

“Let’s call it a draw, shall we?” Jaskier suggested, moving away from another jump, easily teleporting behind Geralt’s back. He dropped the witcher on the ground and sat on top of him almost failing to stay on. “I’m sure you can agree that we’re both amazing.”

Geralt smirked and with a soft kick freed himself, “I guess I can,” he smiled with the corners of his lips helping Jaskier to get on his legs. “Never thought I would fight with someone your level.”

“And what do you mean by that, darling?” bard leaned closer looking very intrigued, “You heard all the rumors, didn’t you?”

“I sure did. It was hard to get away from them, your reputation spoke for you.” Witcher grinned placing his arms on minstrel’s waist briging him closer, “Told you were pretty strong, though teachers weren’t very fond of you. Said that we shouldn’t be as eager to participate in any conflicts as you are.”

“What can I say,” Jaskier shrugged placing a kiss on Geralt’s lips. Bard slipped away from his mate's arms playfuy moving them deeper in the field, where they would be hidden from any curious looks, coquettish smile crossed his face, “I am really all that things they describe me with.”

“Malicious, traitorous and dangerous?” Geralt followed, his hands quickly untying strings of the shirt which pleasantly smelled of minstrel.

“Who knows? I might also be loyal, passionate and dangerous." bard whinked dissapearing in the grass, his voice came from somewhere nearby, "We’ll just never know the truth.”

VI

The next morning, they bid themselves goodbye, and Jaskier headed to his final day of travelling. Minstrel travelled through endless fields, until they slowly started to change in deep forests. To be honest, he was somehow happy to be alone and that unexpected contract turned up to keep Geralt behind. It just felt right to complete this last part of this adventure with himself and no one else around. Only birds singing high above him and occasional deer running away from potential threat. Bard smiled softly trying to enjoy the peace around him. He strummed his lute picking the best songs for an upcoming performance, which was bound to be another success. And he was really proud of this. Even if for someone his profession it might’ve not been such a miracle to become famous, after all you should be deaf on two ears not to earn at least some kind of patron’s love. Oh, or you should be Valdo Max, Jaskier didn’t forget about him. However, writing songs worth remembering was a whole different level. Jaskier put his lute away and opened his songbook, which he had from the very beginning of his career. He looked through dusty pages feeling relaxed, good memories filled his mind reminding about all those adventures. Minstrel remembered all of those. Edge of the world, her sweet kiss, even the one he wrote while Coёn was complaining about stupid peasants not knowing how to distinguish a baby cockatrice from a grown up one. His fans knew all of these and greeted stories about witchers with open arms. Well most of the times. _You won’t be forgotten, my dear friends. Not unless something finally would get its claws on me._

Jaskier jerked when a raindrop fell on his head and quickly hid his precious book away. Rain was something not entirely unpleasant or unbearable, but minstrel still pulled the reigns of his stallion, stopping to hide under a huge tree. He still was slightly ahead of his schedule, so there was no need to push through wet and rather cold weather. Pegasus snorted when a saddle was carefully removed from its back, on which bard just smiled petting its mane. “Don’t like traveling for so long, do you? No worries, you’ll have plenty of time to enjoy your grass, something tells me we’re stuck here for a while.” bard got another snort in response and laughed. He remembered how weird it was for him to see Geralt talk to Roach from time to time, but well, some horses did actually make for good conversationalists.

He took his necklace off and leaned against a tree trunk to patch up his slightly torn from that fight in the grass shirt, when suddenly there was a quiet crunch in the distance. At first bard ignored it continuing to do his small task deciding that it was just wind breaking branches, but then the sound repeated closer as if someone was walking towards his camp. Jaskier frowned and took his glaive out preparing to strike whoever decided to visit him in the middle of the nowhere. Then there was another source of steps coming from behind him. _Oh shit, that’s an ambush. Not very good one, but they are creative, I’ll give them that._ Witcher sighed and teleported on a tree branch to have a good look on these unknown visitors. And he was surprised enough to almost fall from his hiding spot when first soldiers walked out of the bushes on the small clearing where bard was seconds ago. They wore black and gold armor which was really easy to identify. What was harder to process is what the hell was Nilfgaard doing so deep in Temerian territory. _Don’t tell me they’re really here for my soul._ As if hearing his silent question one soldier asked quietly where the hell the bard had gone. _How on earth was I able to piss such a threat off? Sure, I can deal with them now, but something tells me they won’t just back off after one failed fight._

While he was thinking and trying to work out a perfect solution for the situation he got himself into, a woman appeared under his tree, and for some unknown reason, she looked familiar. He wasn’t sure where he might’ve seen her, but something in the way she moved, talked and a hum of his medallion seemed like they had met each other before. _Now which mages tried to kill me again? Yennefer, Tesek, though that one was nowhere near Nilfgaard, Rossie, Osk. Damm it’s a long list._ Jaskier tried to get a closer look on sorceress’ face to give himself something more specific than the dark hair. The branch under him craked, she raised her head. In an instant Jaskier teleported away trying to still stay hidden, but knew that he couldn’t play hide and seek for a long time. Any time those bastards might get a hint, and that mage probably sensed both his glamour and sign, so there was not much of a choice. Either deal with soldiers, before the woman joined the attack, and get captured, or try to kill the sorceress first. The second option seemed like it had at least some chances of success, so, while the main forces lurked around looking for him, Jaskier teleported on the clearing trying to reach for the mage.

What he didn’t foresee was that the woman was much more powerful and skilled than he expected. When he showed up behind her with his glaive aiming at her neck she somehow managed to get away replacing herself with a soldier. Poor man didn’t even know what got him, nor did Jaskier. _Fuck. This one sure has something in her head._ Witcher swore silently finding himself in the middle of the battle as if everyone were miraculously returned to the clearing, and no matter how much he didn’t want to admit, slowly but surely he had to slow down. Soldiers were attacking him from all sides mercilessly stabbing him in every part of his body. He wasn’t able to take his elixirs before this whole bloodbath and when he managed to clear the way to his bags, they were in the middle of the magical fire. _Now the real party will start._ Jaskier grinned teleporting away just in time before the first vial blew up. Bard never used those potions cause there were needed to kill specific kind of monsters and were extremely dangerous, especially when contacted with fire, but now he thanked all Gods for not letting him to get rid of those. _I’ll definitely make more of those if I get away alive from here._ He thought dodging a fiery shard flying at him, while nilfgaardians beneath him were dying from explosions or running away from certain death. The only thing which was disappointing in this fire parade was that mage was nowhere to be seen. _At least I’d only need to deal with her and not the whole army._

Jaskier sighed in relief when everything got quiet and jumped from his improvised shelter back on the ground hissing under his breath from pain rushing though him. His head hurt from so many loud sounds at once, and well, his whole body ached from all wounds he collected. He was still standing without too much of a problem, while the situation could be much worse. And definitely would be when this insane mage shows up again to finish him. _Hope Pegasus managed to get away. If I’m not dead after all of this, I’ll need a horse to carry me to a nearby town._ Witcher laughed nervously at his own joke and tried to focus more on everything around him and to pick just any sound aside from ringing in his ears. Jaskier managed to do that, however, mage was lucky enough to sneak at him before he could react. She shouted some kind of spell which easily got through a shield Jaskier managed to cast in last second. The sign broke allowing the force to drop him on the ground paralyzing. _And now what? She’ll make my death slow and painful or use me as a free dummy for beating?_

“No, witcher,” she answered coming closer, her green eyes lit with dark satisfaction. “we have slightly more interesting plans on you. Not your bard form, this one.”

Before Jaskier could say anything in response, sorceress waved her hand using another spell on him. He tried to pathetically fight against it, but soon enough lost control over his own mind and fell into pitch darkness.

VII

When Jaskier opened his eyes again, he was trapped in some kind of white space without anything else around still unconscious. Or Nilfgaard had an unusual prison just for him, at that point even this theory could be real enough. “Mind games, huh?” he mumbled looking around in case he might’ve missed something. “What will you do with me now? Trap in an endless nightmare? That won’t work, just a friendly warning.”

No response. Witcher sighed and started to wander around hoping to find something interesting, maybe even useful, but after an hour of walking he had nothing. Tired and slightly confused he sat on the floor allowing himself to rest, when suddenly a thought crossed his mind. _I was right all along._ He laughed hysterically finally fully realizing that his superstitions weren’t groundless, and he was right all along. “Oh fuck, I knew something was off with this all trip. My intuition is not completely ruined! Yooooho!”

“Having a little party here?” familiar female voice asked derisively, sorceress appeared behind him. She crossed her arms stepping closer to him, Jaskier squinted carefully watching her every step, trying to come up with the way to escape from here, which seemed to make the witch laugh, “You don’t have to try so hard, there is no way you can get away.”

“Well, some girls do want me to stay longer, but today I’m not really in shape for private concerts.”

“Really?” she asked sarcastically and leaned forward to look in his eyes properly. “And are you ready to answer my questions then? No need for a song, just simple conversation would be enough.”

“Depend on which questions you have.”

“They’re very simple. Even someone as you, Killer, will be able to answer them.” Jaskier snorted in response. _No way we can have a conversation without using that title of mine._ “Now, I’m sure someone as close to White Wolf as you’re knows about famous story. Witcher and princess of Cintra bonded by the Law of Surprise.” _Yep, hard to escape mentioning that one as well._ “So both me and my emperor are interested where he will want to hide his little cub?”

“In a place where you’d not find her, of course.” he hissed, quickly redirecting his thoughts on something useless such as grass before his mind could be used against him. And it definitely would be. Reading thoughts was just the simplest way to get information you needed, aside from torturing, so there was no way Jaskier would fuck up like this. Luckily or not but he was captured by enough mages to learn this lesson. If Nilfgaard wanted to make him talk, they’d need something more than simple search in his head. “Besides, the last time I met with my fellow witcher-friend, his cub was hidden away in a heart of Calanthe, so you should really ask her first.”

“It will be a slight problem, considering that Cintra fell!” witch shouted throwing Jaskier away. He hit an invisible wall making a mental note that this place at least wasn’t endless, “So I’ll ask again, where is Cirilla?”

Witcher smirked at her icy tone. He was surprised to hear that someone as stubborn and sometimes furious as Calanthe lost, though considering that Nilfgaard used something around fifteen soldiers to take a witcher down, there was no doubt that their force was large enough to simply outnumber Cintrian army. _They might not be the most skilled fighters, sure, but even Calanthe won’t be able to stand against a raging sea._ “If only I knew,” he admitted honestly, when the chance of another wall hit got too high up, “You are the ones who attacked, maybe you’re also the ones who might’ve, I don’t know, kill her in a freaking blood bath?”

“If she was killed, we wouldn’t have wasted our time catching you and playing these guessing games.” witch replied preparing to strike at him once again. Jaskier was ready to get another blow with magic, when she stopped casting whatever she wanted to use and smiled wickedly scanning his body. _And what’s now? I might finally get my endless nightmare, or that creepy thing Osk used to make me kill myself. That one was rather interesting._

Sorceress frowned at his thoughts as if considering them as an option, but something definitely didn’t work with her plan, so at the end she just relaxed continuing to smile. _She’s sure insane. No wonder she serves Nilfgaard, only someone out of their mind would work with them._ “You’re really an expert in someone insane now, aren’t you?” she asked after a while not really hiding the fact that she was reading his mind.

“I’ve been a witcher for centuries. I do know thing or two about crazy witches as yourself.”

“Now tell me, witcher, how many of your kind are still out there? Dozens? Hundreds?”

“More than you think.” Jaskier replied. He wasn’t entirely sure where she was going with these questions; if they were interested in finding Ciri, information about living witchers just wouldn’t do them anything useful. Unless… _There’s no way she wants to do **that!**_ He quickly shook his head throwing that discovery away. Giving that witch a hint what to do next, in case her plans were different, was the last thing he needed in that situation.

“And how many of them are match to you, Killer?” sorceress continued casting an unknown spell which made cracks appear everywhere around them, floor trembled under Jaskier’s body, “No human can stand against you, that's a fact. However, are there someone who can proudly claim that they was able to walk away after a fight with you?”

“Why would you be interested?” bard asked getting to his feet trying no to think about the possibility of falling to death. _She won’t kill me. If she asks something like this her aim is far from just making me stop breathing or throwing on the ground._

“It’s simply an interesting fact to keep in mind. Your every word is much more than we could’ve ever gotten from your travel companion. I’m glad we changed our plans and ended up capturing you instead. Even with all your well-known toughness and strength you’re much easier to deal with. You’re just a usual witcher, after all.”

“What do you mean?” Jaskier demanded feeling chill running down his spine. _No, no, she’s no going to do that. What use will the empire have of one witcher?_ He dug a little deeper in this thought still trying to masquerade it as if he was simply thinking about all rumors about him. _Asking about my strength, trying to know about other witchers. Oh fuck, I’m in some deep shit._ “You are, Jaskier. You are.”

Julian rushed forward wanting to grab her and get his answers, but she simply released the spell making he floor under them shatter on million pieces. He tried to find something to stop himself from falling into another darkness, or at least wake up; however no matter how hard he tried, his body just continued to fell deeper into nothing, while the voice kept whispering spells. Attempts to recognize chants that were used failed as well, so, left with no results, Jaskier simply accepted his faith and relaxed. If he was going to die, forced to serve the emperor, or whatever shit that witch came up with, there was no need to fight against something you neither see, nor feel.

And for a long time, he didn’t even think too much about what was happening outside, who was doing what with his body, how long this all shit had been already happening. The only thing he knew for sure was the fact that he was still alive, that meant there was nothing to worry about, right? Endless falling, or whatever what was happening with him, didn’t even make in the top of things being done to kill him. Jaskier was totally fine, except maybe consuming feelings of loneliness and boredom, but he could easily deal with them. Witcher still had the song book which was always securely kept in his pocket, for some reason it didn’t disappear the second he woke up in that white room, so for quite a while it kept him sane allowing to write songs, recall on some good memories and simply read his old notes finally finding strength to finish those songs. He wanted to publish them before disappearing in time. His career was practically over, cause he highly doubted he would ever want to experience something like these ever again, even if nothing bad was happening, besides he wouldn’t be able to pretend being human any longer, Jaskier the bard was performing for much longer than he really should’ve.

“Well, I knew I would have to leave the stage at one point,” Julian said at one point closing his notebook after using the last page to write his thoughts on, “never knew it would come to an end like this.”

But then something weird started to happen. Julian started to see visions of some strange things. They weren’t memories or something happened during time he was alive, no. It was random images of strange rooms, voices telling him he fought perfectly and that with him by their side victory became something usual. Occasional bursts of pain were there as well. No blood, no scars just feeling of phantom wounds appear on his body, but whenever he checked himself, he was perfectly fine. But it wasn’t a physical pain which started to slowly poison and break him. The fact that he was fighting alongside Nilfgaard was the thing which really hit him.

 _Witchers shouldn’t fight in human wars. They’re not mine to win, loose or even just participate. I shouldn’t be here! I have to get back to the real world!_ He tried. He really did. Julian clenched to darkness around him trying to tear its fabric, to fight his way back to reality, but whenever he tried, it just felt like it was getting only stronger with each attempt and move as if someone was constantly making sure he wouldn’t ever behave out of line. After a long time of fighting against whatever spell was used on him, he had to stand down and admit his defeat.

"Guess, I just have to accept the fact that I'm probably helping Nilfgaard to fight with North," he winced at the thought that there would be a lot more peopple hating him if he ever found a way to get out of there, "maybe I truly am all those things they tell about me. Malicious, traitorous and dangerous." Jaskier could practically hear all those voices in his head shouting at him for participating in something he neither wanted, nor was allowed to above all. "Maybe that nickname of mine is suitable after all. And even if it wasn't before, now they would have all rights to call me that."

He remembered how he got that name. It was something he really wanted to forget, to persuade himself that he did the right thing killing those who disrespected harmless elves, dwarfs, or any other Elder race. Julian knew that he shouldn't have been involved in those battles in Cintra, but he just had to do something, and, to be honest, he never regretted that. Yes, he was banished from Cintra, people spat at his face calling him slayer and that name of his. However, no matter what was said about those events, how true rumours were, he helped those he wanted, while learning one of the most important lessons: witchers has to stay neutral. Doing so wouldn't rid them of all hatred, but it would minimise the amount of stones thrown at them for sure.

Julian might've never really agreed with that, however, he still understood that having a witcher battle for your interests would make the whole thing unnesisary bloodier, and more people would end up hating you. That was just the reality he had to live in, reality he had to adjust to. And now, knowing that he was probaly not only violating an oath he made to his teachers, but as well helped some bastards to take over, felt like a heavy stone in his chest which slowly crushed him under its weight. _I hope none of the others alive would make the same mistake I unknowinly made. Even if Nilfgaard isn't the one to kill them, I'll do that. With my own hands, using my own skills._

And then he heard it.

Familiar voices.

Shouting around him, calling his witcher name and trying to reach out. Silence. Deafening sound of nothingness getting closer and closer, ringing in his ears, heavy feeling of a glaive in his hand, salty taste of blood on his tongue all rushing together, painting a horrible picture in front of him. It wasn’t hard to recognize them, it never was. Vesemir. Eskel. Lambert. Coёn. But one voice was missing. “No,” he whispered looking around, desperately trying to see something in this darkness, something that will prove he was wrong, that nothing had ever happened with the only one he truly loved and cared for. But all he got in response was dead silence mixed with unbearable cold of death, “It can’t be true. I couldn’t have, I’d never do this,” he looked at his hands which were the only parts of his body still being warm as if some kind of hot liquid was slowly dropping from his fingers, “Geralt,” his voice broke, body started shaking, “I’m so sorry. I’m really are.”

Another voice. Still familiar, but now it belonged to a woman who was shouting something to him, something rude and sharp. Suddenly he felt a blast of pain on his cheek. He snapped out of the state of horrible fear and grief starting to look around for the source of the impact. Surprisingly, he saw a vague figure of someone with dark black hair, violet eyes. “Yen?”

“For fuck's sake finally! Okay, now listen carefully, otherwise I’d kill you with my own hands. We managed to crack the spells, which were put on you, but you still have to do your part. When I command, you’ll attack me with everything you have. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he forced himself to answer, “what difference does it make anyway. One kill more, one less.”

Yennefer opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it and looked somewhere past him as if someone was approaching from his back. “Now!”

He obeyed mindlessly. Using his arm, which held the invisible glaive, witcher closed his eyes and put all his strength into a blow straight to sorceress’s neck feeling how his weapon broke bones and sent the head flying away. _At least her death isn’t painful._ Then he felt something strange, something which felt almost like a wind. _What the heck?_

Jaskier opened his eyes. He wasn’t in the darkness anymore. Instead he stood on the stone clearing, high walls of Kaer Morhen around him, a headless corpse at his legs. His body hurt, burned with all those wounds he collected during the fight, his breath was off, vision blurred. _What happened?_ He wanted to ask, to turn around and see whether his suspicions were correct, and he’d see another body somewhere nearby killed as well by his hands. But he never got the chance to do so. Julian opened his fingers allowing glaive to fall down on the ground with a horrifying metal sound, his head started to spin because of blood loss. Before he could do something or even react, someone’s hands caught him right before he fell on the ground, his mind drifted back into the unconsciousness.

* * *

There they were.

Standing in front of each other, weapons unsheathed, prepared for battle. World around them was swirling. Different spells flew around, loud shouts mixed with terrible sound of steel crushing together as both sides fought for their lives. Wolf stepped closer, looked in glassy golden eyes of a man before him. It wasn’t the one he knew, rather something new. Not a human. A weapon. Woman cried from somewhere behind, her voice angerly ordered to attack, to finally reach the goal they were here for. Her tone was made of cruelty and confidence of a winner. Like the fight was won even before it had started. Second passed, griffin disappeared using his famous tactic.

Their weapons hit adding another sound to already complete symphony of death and pain. White-haired witcher spun protecting space around him from sneak attacks. He swore, when a wall of fire was unleashed. Quen was barely able to deal with the threat of burning alive, but even with that shield Wolf was forced to retreat. Low growl, another attack. In a fast, impossible for a human eye to see, move which was perfected over the centuries griffin jumped, his glaive hit the ground covered in cobblestone. A leg stroke on his left aiming for his head. He didn’t react. He truly wasn’t living anymore. No emotions, feelings or anything. Just cold prudence of a professional trained to kill. And he was not easy to fight against.

With an ease he caught the leg and threw his opponent away. Wolf braked with his boots; sword ready to parry another strike. Attack, attack, back. Attack, attack, back. They looked like apprentices who were training with each other. Knowing all the moves and tactics, tricks and dirty ways to pull the scales on their side. To win the final prize. Witchers backed again, started to circle around one another. Blood stained the rocks beneath his legs as wolf’s sword pierced in griffin’s side. Instead of retreating and thinking of another way to strike, he used his glaive to knock the sword out of his opponent’s hands. It flew away impossible to reach in one move. They’d stopped only for a second as two women flew past them too caught up in their own little war to care much. Spells alongside curses filled the air, man behind them ordered others to regroup and switch places. Just a heartbeat, and they were at each other’s throats once again.

With the use of Aard, Wolf managed to push enemy back and rush to the sword. He turned around to block an upcoming blow. But was one moment too late. Glaive flushed on the sun, sword was drawn and swung, another clang. Terrible sounding cough echoed on the clearing. Everything around them froze just for a moment. There was sound of a weapon falling on the ground, bubbling of red rivers coming from a large gash just under his chin. Wolf’s knees buckled dropping him on the ground. He lost this game; he lost his life. Griffin looked at him dispassionately, little pound of blood reached his boots. Winning cry of the same woman, another order, world began to fight once again. As if nothing had just happened. Winner touched the cooling body in front of him with a toe of his boot. Wolf didn’t move. Last breath escaped his lips, eyes looked in the same glassy way as griffin’s did. Without any word or a reaction Griffin took his weapon tighter in his hands, saw another sorceress coming just from his back. He had another fight to win.

**Author's Note:**

> Soo, ending on a cliffhanger... At least you won't find and kill me for doing that)  
> Let me know in a comments what you think about this part, and what might happen next. I'm just all ears to hear your ideas.


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